No Más De Dolor
by Diane LD
Summary: Marissa's thoughts in Tijuana.


NO MÁS DE DOLOR

Author: donnatellaMarks

Summary: Marissa's thoughts

Rating: PG13, suicide theme, drugs

Spoilers: The entirety of the O.CO, including the most recent episode.

AN- This is my first attempt at OC fanfic, so please forgive me if I'm not getting a good characterization. Takes place right after the last summer episode. Please REVIEW, sundevil009@yahoo.com 

**

The world spins around me, colors blurred and sounds all too loud. Sweat runs down my face as I fumble; stumble toward some destination still unknown.

How could he? 

How could he? I trusted him. I slept with him. I gave myself to him! How could he?

But then again, I could ask that of anyone these days. How could my father do the things he did, how could Ryan… How could Luke break my heart? Or maybe he didn't break it. Maybe he just trampled on it.

I think Ryan gets the award for breaking my heart. Walking in on him with that girl...woman…. I had finally worked up enough courage to tell him what I felt, and he had to be with that woman. Congratulations Ryan. The prize goes to you.

I didn't make things better; I think I knew on some level Luke wouldn't work out. Ryan's arrival in Newport changed everything; sometimes I wish we could go back to before. Before, when I was happy with Luke, my parents were still together, and everything made sense.

A bar. It's off the side of the dusty road. It's quiet. Quieter than inside my head.

It's dimly lit, but even that hurts my eyes. I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't. I feel like all I'm doing is running, running and never getting anywhere. I run and run and still I'm here.

I look at the pill bottle in my hand, the one I stole from Summer. That's the O.C., I guess- mothers sending their children to Tijuana for unregulated painkillers.

The barman brings me my drink, setting it in front of me on the dingy bar, filthy due to years of grime and filth. Condensation runs down the glass, the liquid cool in contrast to the warm, humid Mexican air.

My hand trembles as I open the bottle, shaking so much I can barely open the childproof seal. Funny. Illegal painkillers with childproof seals.

The tiny white pills are spread out on the dirty countertop, each one looking at me, as if they had voices, condemning me for what I'm about to do.

I just want this all to end. Just… No more pain. A tear runs down my cheek and mixes with the sweat already pooling there. Please, just no more pain. That's all I ask. No more hurt, no more drama, no more pain.

My brains not working right, I don't think. Maybe it's the atmosphere here, in Mexico. What happens here, stays here. Is that an excuse for Luke?

I grab the pills in my hand quickly, suddenly. I need to get this over with. No more pain.

This is the time when you're supposed to say goodbye, and plead with God and all that stuff you're supposed to do when you feel like this. But why? I stopped believing long ago. No God can save me now.

I push more of the pills in my hand. The quicker, the better.

What would my friends think of me now? Would they understand? Would Summer turn her nose? Would Luke even care? Would Ryan mourn for me? Would anyone feel guilty?

I drink the tequila quickly, knocking it back with the handful of pills. They're almost too much to swallow but I choke them down. No turning back now.

The drink is already starting to take effect. I know, growing up in the O.C. and having such a low tolerance for alcohol. Well, I guess it comes in handy now. Makes all of this a whole lot quicker.

There are men in the bar, leering at the thin, pathetic looking girl. I rush out of the bar. If I want to do this right, I'm not going while being gang-raped in the back streets of Tijuana.

Outside it's hot, unbearably, and I can almost feel my temperature rising. My world is starting to spin again; a haze is numbing my senses as I trip and fall and try to find a quiet place in the din.

Good.

No more pain.

**

__

As the walls are closing in  
And the colors fade to black  
And my eyes are falling fast and deep into me  
And I follow the tracks that lead me down

-Sarah McLachlan, "Black"

**

Review sundevil009@yahoo.com


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